


Operation: Ninja Cat

by Neuriel (Robin)



Series: Menagerie [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Kittens, slight crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6404224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin/pseuds/Neuriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has a date, so Ziva cat-sits for him. Sequel to "Menagerie." Season 5-ish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation: Ninja Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rose Wilde Irish for the beta!

Ziva, comfortable and relaxed, stood outside of Tony's apartment at exactly 7:00pm. Tony, on the other hand, was slightly out-of-breath, looking stressed and unkempt as he opened the door.

"You aren't ready yet?" Ziva asked, taking in Tony's still unbuttoned shirt, his half-done tie, the belt that wasn't quite fastened.

"Magnum's gone into hiding," Tony said, as if that explained everything.

It did.

Ziva entered the apartment. Setting her backpack on the floor, she motioned for Tony to come near her. Seeing that she had no gun or knife in her hand, he approached, albeit warily. Like a mother or girlfriend, she began to fuss over his appearance, buttoning his shirt and fixing his tie. Somewhat bemused by her behavior, Tony let her.

"I never saw you as the domestic type, Officer David," Tony commented.

"You look like a slob, DiNozzo," Ziva snapped, her fingers working quickly and efficiently. "It was either fix you or head-slap you, and I am not Gibbs." She started to work on his belt, but Tony pushed her hands away and took a step back.

"I can do that myself," he protested.

Hiding a smile, Ziva said innocently, "I am only trying to make you presentable for... Candy, was it?"

" _Sandy_."

She shrugged, as if to say, 'Who can keep track of all your girlfriends?' Which was a fair point, except that her memory was annoyingly sharp, and she probably remembered the names of all his past dates better than he did.

Ziva glanced around his apartment, then let out a low whistle. Several seconds later, Magnum trotted into the hallway.

"You have _got_ to teach me how to do that," Tony said, clearly impressed.

"What, whistle? It's easy, Tony." She leaned toward him so that her face was only an inch away from his. With a seductive smile, she said huskily, "You put your lips together and just blow."

Tony frowned, somewhat uncomfortably. "No fair using movie quotes against me," he accused.

Ziva grinned. "You set yourself up for that one, Tony."

Magnum, tired of being ignored by the humans, meowed and rubbed himself against Ziva's legs.

Ziva pulled away from Tony to look at the cat. "Hello, Magnum," she greeted. She bent down and picked him up, snuggling him. He made pleased kitten sounds in response. "You are getting so big." She carried him into the living room, Tony trailing after them like a third wheel.

"Thanks again for agreeing to cat-sit, Ziva," Tony said. "Magnum's not used to being alone at night yet."

Ziva sat down on the couch with Magnum. "You're welcome. I always enjoy spending time with your cat. He is so cute."

It always unnerved Tony to hear Ziva David, deadly Mossad assassin, use the word "cute." He wasn't sure if it was just the word itself, or if it was also the accompanying affectionate look she gave Magnum when she said it. But it was stupid to be jealous of his cat - not that he was jealous.

Besides, since adopting Magnum a month earlier, Tony practically saw Ziva every other night. As both his partner and a self-professed cat-lover, Ziva felt it was her duty to ensure that Tony was taking proper care of Magnum. Tony decided to be grateful for her help rather than annoyed; he enjoyed her company, and it was fun hanging out with her outside of the office and the field. Plus her cooking, to which she sometimes treated him when she came over, was amazing. However, this would be the first time that Ziva was alone with Magnum.

Realizing that he was still not ready for his date, Tony said, "I'm going to go finish-"

"Pimping?" Her look was far too angelic, and he wondered how many other times she had deliberately screwed up English idioms just to tease him.

" _Primping_ , Ziva! And no, 'primping' is what women do. Guys 'groom.'"

"I will remember that," Ziva said as Tony went into the bathroom to 'groom.' A few seconds later, she asked, "Where are you and Sandy going for dinner?"

"That new Italian place on 7th Street," Tony called. "It's supposed to be really good. Probie's been wanting to go for weeks. It'll be hilarious rubbing it in his face on Monday."

Ziva rolled her eyes. Typical Tony. "You should order the lasagna," she suggested.

"You've been?"

"Yes, three nights ago."

"Wait. You weren't there on a _date_ , were you?"

"Yes." One usually didn't go to fancy restaurants alone, did they?

"You had a date and didn't tell me?"

Ziva stroked Magnum's fur, smiling as Magnum purred contentedly. "Should I have?"

"Um, yeah?" It was what McGee called Tony's "duh" voice. "I'm your partner, and this is _kind_ of a big deal."

Why was he so surprised? Men asked her out often. Just because she didn't brag to Tony about all of her 'conquests' didn't mean she lacked a social life.

But Tony was speaking again: "Who was it with? Anyone I know?"

She briefly considered toying with him but ultimately saw little point in keeping it a secret. "Agent Langer."

Tony's comb paused midway through his hair. " _FBI_ Agent Langer?"

"He is the only Agent Langer I know," Ziva said. "He asked me out last week, and I agreed. He's hot, yes?"

That was debatable. Seriously, Langer? The guy was a tool. "I can't believe you went out with Langer and didn't say anything."

Tony exited the bathroom. Ziva could smell his cologne as he approached; she coughed politely. Not required to adhere to human niceties, Magnum's nose scrunched up in distaste.

"What?" Tony said, seeing their looks.

Ziva tried to be tactful: "Your cologne is a little strong, Tony."

"I _always_ use this amount on dates," Tony said, annoyed.

Okay, forget tactful. "Well, if you do not mind her _passing out_ on you, then I suppose it's fine."

"No one's passed out yet," Tony said.

"But how many second dates have you had?"

Tony considered her point, then went back into the bathroom.

"Your owner is not very good at this," Ziva said quietly to Magnum. Magnum mraowed, which sounded like agreement.

A few minutes later, Tony returned. "Better?"

Ziva sniffed the air. "Much." She refrained from commenting on how nice he smelled, now that she could actually breathe, and instead gave him an appraising once-over. "Very nice, Tony. I like the suit."

He tried not to preen. "Thanks. So... Langer."

"You want to talk about my date _now_?" Ziva asked in disbelief.

Tony looked at his watch. "I have ten minutes. You can give me the condensed version."

Ziva blinked. "Sandy is picking _you_ up?" She was surprised; Tony struck her as the old-fashioned type, at least when it came to romance.

Tony shrugged. "She's the one who suggested it. She's gorgeous, I didn't want to say no. Now - you and Langer."

Resisting the urge to throw a pillow at him for acting like a gossiping teenager, Ziva said simply, "It was nice. _He_ is nice. We had dinner, then went to see a play."

"Sounds... fun," he said carefully. "When's the next date?"

"I doubt there will be one," Ziva replied honestly. "I don't think we, ah, clicked?"

"That's too bad," Tony said, not sounding particularly sorry. In fact, he seemed almost cheerful.

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "So..." she mimicked, "where did you meet this Sandy?"

"The vet. Needed to get Magnum's second set of shots this week. Sandy was sitting across from me, and she started chatting me up."

"Because of Magnum," Ziva said knowingly, patting the cat on the head. "I wonder how you picked up women before you had him."

Tony scowled. Before he could give her a withering, suitably witty retort, the doorbell rang. Startled, Magnum jumped, leaping from Ziva's lap and running off to hide - probably someplace where Tony wouldn't be able to find him.

"Magnum!" Tony groaned.

"Don't worry, I will get him," Ziva said, standing. "Go answer the door."

Obediently, Tony did as he was told. Sandy, tall, blonde, and lithe, looked incredibly sexy in a blue dress. The two exchanged greetings and compliments.

"Shall we go?" Sandy said.

"Yeah, just a second." Tony turned and called, "Ziva! I'm leaving!"

Ziva's voice came from somewhere further inside: "All right! Have fun."

Tony noticed Sandy's slight frown. He could guess what she was thinking: young, exotically-accented _female_ voice... "Cat-sitter," he explained awkwardly.

"Oh." Her frown disappeared, but her tone was doubtful.

They left, Tony locking the door behind him.

Meanwhile, Ziva was playing with Magnum in Tony's bedroom. She sat cross-legged on the bed as Magnum wrestled with one of Tony's Ohio State t-shirts. Amused, Ziva watched the kitten, occasionally pulling on the shirt and watching Magnum follow. Magnum reminded her of her own childhood pet; he was just as mischievous and playful, just as sweet.

Eventually, Magnum tired of the game and batted the shirt away.

"Are you ready for more training then?" Ziva said, scratching the cat's fuzzy head.

Magnum looked at her with big eyes.

"That's a yes," Ziva decided.

Operation: Ninja Cat was a go. Ziva's hope was that by the end of the year, Magnum would be the best Mossad-trained cat in the eastern United States. As Tony often referred to Ziva as a ninja, she thought it an appropriate codename for her special secret project. She had already taught Magnum how to effectively hide (though she had to admit much of that was pure innate cat talent), and he would come to her when she whistled at a specific pitch (that behavior, she _could_ take credit for). Next was to teach him a few simple verbal commands. Afterwards, she would train him how to appear and disappear quietly without being detected, and how to hunt things in the stealthiest possible way. Then perhaps they could move onto some more complex behaviors.

Training Magnum involved a clicker and lots of treats, praising, and affectionate cuddling. Positive reinforcement, it was called in English - she had looked it up. Mossad did not approve of this for people, of course, but for animals, it worked well. It helped that Magnum was a very smart cat. Ziva was amazed at his rapid progress. During her visits, she always managed to sneak in at least ten to fifteen minutes of training, sometimes longer, while Tony was preoccupied with work or chores.

Tonight's set-up was ideal, even if it was because Tony had a date with some random woman he'd picked up at an animal clinic. She did not feel (that) guilty about having ulterior motives in agreeing to cat-sit; if cat-sitting was simply a pretext to get some private training time with Magnum, well, then, at least Tony got a free cat-sitter out of it.

Ziva and Magnum trained for half-an-hour, stopping for dinner. Magnum always ate at the same two times every day, at Ziva's insistence; it was important that Magnum know when feeding times were, and she had drilled this and various other instructions into Tony's head, such as 'clean the litter box daily' and 'if Magnum starts crying at 3am, do not give into him or he will forever cry at that time of night.' In some ways, it was easier training Magnum than it was training Tony, she mused.

Following dinner, Ziva trained Magnum for another hour. By then, Magnum was practically falling asleep where he was sitting, his ears and eyes drooping, and Ziva concluded they had done enough for the night. She placed him in his kitty bed and waited until he was asleep before going into the living room to read a book.

She must have fallen asleep as well because some time after 10:30, she woke to the sound of Tony entering the apartment. Sitting up, she noted through sleepy eyes that he was alone.

"Sorry," Tony said quietly upon noticing her. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"That's all right." She rubbed her eyes, then stretched. Tony's eyes were automatically drawn to where her shirt rode up her stomach. "How did your date go?"

"Uh..." _Eyes up, DiNozzo!_ "... okay." He entered the living room, taking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of the couch. She scooted over to make room for him, and he sat down next to her.

"Just okay?" Ziva teased, clearly fishing for details.

He began undoing his tie. "Well, I couldn't really bring her back here-"

She was instantly embarrassed. "Oh, Tony, I'm so sorry-"

"I'm kidding, Ziva," Tony said, laughing, and she punched him (not hard) in the shoulder. "It was fine. Dinner was good - lasagna was great, by the way, McGee will be jealous. She's not really my type though."

Ziva looked at him skeptically. "You have a type now?"

"You wound me, Ziva. Of course I have a type."

"I thought your only requirements were hot, female, and over eighteen," she said lightly.

"Funny." Probably best not to mention that, actually, his type was dark-haired, deadly, and crazy. "How was Magnum?" he said instead.

"Very well-behaved," Ziva said, smiling as she recalled the progress they'd made. "We played for a while; he is sleeping right now."

"Good. Thanks for watching him tonight."

"It was not a problem. Magnum is the sweetest kitten."

"He takes after his owner," Tony said proudly.

Ziva rolled her eyes and rose from the couch. "On _that_ note, I am going."

Hoping he sounded friendly and not desperate, Tony said, "It's still early. You could stay for a little while if you want, watch a movie."

She gave him an odd look. "It's almost 11, Tony."

"On a Friday night!"

Doubtfully, she asked: "Sandy did not wear you out?"

"I'm not tired at all." He gave her his best 'good boy' face. "You can choose the movie."

Ziva considered. Maybe his date had actually gone badly, and he was lonely? Keeping him company for a few more hours wouldn't hurt. Besides, it wasn't as though she had any other plans and, though she wasn't about to tell him so, she did enjoy spending time with him.

"All right," she relented.

She tried not to smile as Tony grinned and leapt to his feet. "Great. You pick out the movie, and I'll change out of my suit."

Tony quietly passed Magnum, who was snoring adorably in his kitty bed, and quickly changed into some casual clothes. When he came back out, he squatted next to Magnum's bed, gently petting the sleeping kitten.

"You really are the best wingman," Tony whispered so Ziva wouldn't hear.

Oblivious to his role as unintentional matchmaker, Magnum, secret ninja-cat-in-training, dreamt of victory over Tony's t-shirt.

\---  
end


End file.
